


Somebody Might Have Warned a Man

by missmollyetc



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Attempted Polyamory, Established Relationship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: The point of the matter--well, maybe not the point, but thegistof the situation was pretty damn simple: Boy liked Boy. BoykissedBoy. Boy survived the experience. Alex was a simple Martian man, and he had gotten many things wrong, but this one...he was pretty certain he'd gotten it right.Right?
Relationships: Amos Burton/Alex Kamal
Comments: 22
Kudos: 117





	Somebody Might Have Warned a Man

All his life, it’s felt like Alex was waiting on something. Mars was all about the work and the sacrifice and underneath it all that jittery damn coil of electricity that said nothing happened fast enough. No one ever worked enough, no one ever tried hard enough, and if they all just fucking came together they’d be able to stop and reap those damn rewards everyone knew were coming. Living in a dome and waiting for green on Mars like it all depended on the purity of his work ethic. Striving for the next proficiency exam to clear him to study for his next certificate. Getting that good Martian woman and working with her for that better Martian babe. All that testing and poking and practicing to make Mars the paradise they were promising their children in school. Standing at the edge of a gangplank, maybe, and the closest he could come to feeling like he was on his way was in that pilot’s chair. Flying was at least moving towards something, rather than waiting in his place. 

With Amos and their Thing, which is like nothing Alex has had before, the waiting is different. The expectations are sharper, the drop offs are sudden and extreme, like oxygen venting into the void. Amos is like chasing a bogie who wants to be caught, and the debris that hurts him cuts both ways. The parts of Alex that Amos most wants to have and to hold never match up to what Alex thinks they’re gonna be.

He’d taken a chance on kissing Amos, and done it first because he’d remembered those kinda looks from his younger days, back when Alex had been proper and righteous as a good Martian should be. It was nice to feel like that once in a long while. So, after a dinner brought forth with all the accumulated skill of the family Kamal, Alex tried kissing Amos in the midst of washing up. It went... peaceably. Amos stood very still and let Alex kiss him, but when Alex pulled back, Amos had broken one of the plastic forks in his hands and the other was holding a knife. They’d both shook a little then.

“We can do that,” Amos had said. “Just don’t come up on my back.”

“Understood,” Alex remembered replying, with the kind of hindsight that made a man want to kick himself, because he had not, in fact, understood at all.

Amos’ eyes had never strayed once down Alex’s body, he’d kept them right on his face, and Alex liked that. 

It’s exciting is the damn problem. Amos is a mean old ride, possessive of parts of Alex that Alex did not know it was possible to be possessive about. Amos has a way about him, a kick like afterburn.

***

Amos is not... totally...upset by his and Alex’s deal. He’s confused sometimes, since when is that new, but the good thing about Alex is that he doesn’t make Amos work for answers. Alex lays it all out, and even if sometimes he doesn’t make any kind of sense, Amos at least has something to work with. He supposes that’s what Alex means by ‘human kindness,’ even though it don’t add up often.

He narrows it down by the trying. Alex _tries_ like it’s an old habit, and touches Amos like he…well, he’s a little like Prax, maybe. Prax is a good person, a good father. He makes things grow, he’s raising his daughter. Alex is a good teammate; he cooks for them, he flies for them. He makes soft little noises in the back of his throat when Amos pulls on his hair. He’s confusing. 

It makes Amos feel. Stuff. He doesn't know if he should like that.

Early on, he took it to Naomi, and she asked good questions but Amos must have had the wrong answers because she got angry. It's not Alex's fault Amos has always had a body people want to make work for them. Alex had a nice kiss and his beard was clean, and it was a kiss. Amos has kissed before, only ...

Amos decides maybe they should share a hooker. Get those feelings out of the way.

***

Listen, Alex likes sex. He likes rip-roaring all parties are full throttle engaged sex, no matter who he's with, and if Amos don't want that… Then what does he want? Alex isn’t opposed, he just likes a clear flight plan, and you gotta slingshot some time, don't you?

So they try the hooker.

Well, Amos riles Alex up to it. It doesn’t take much.

They go to a brothel on Ceres that Amos picks out and Alex feels like some kind of asshole because Amos keeps trying to get him to approve of the damn hooker like he's some Earther bigshot on a tourist ident. Also Alex never knew Amos had such an eye for hookers before until he figures out that all the hookers started off looking like Amos, but then they started looking like _Alex_— Until the one Amos finally goads him into approving could be his skinny, twitchy brother in low light.

Amos isn't the best at this but he knows he wants Alex to be happy and this is familiar at least.  
Now, Alex has had a lot to drink by this point and so has Amos, so he buys sobriety meds from the bathroom vending machine for them both, and takes his first before watching Amos take his (Amos is _mystified_ by this, but does it. He's here for Alex after all).

They all go back to the room in the least sexy group of people Alex has ever been in, who are going to have sex. He could be standing next to Holden for the amount of feeling he has right now.

But Amos on his other side is tense and a little wired, which makes Alex start to tense which makes Daffydd nervous which makes Amos crowd Daffydd against the wall and speak very softly to him as soon as they pile into the cheap workroom in the brothel.

(Meanwhile, Daffydd the sex worker is just picturing his actual bed, with his real boyfriend in it, and also maybe how many drinks this is going to take. He doesn't do hard stuff. He and the pomang’s bodyguard had had a good professional talk about it, too. Only the closer they all get to the rented room, the more the bodyguard starts to look less gútegow, and more like an ubicha with a nervy kopeng.)

Amos is making a good plan; he has rules. He made sure Daffydd knows what's going to happen. See, they're going to have sex. Nothing special, no gear required, he's got the condoms and lube, but Daffydd is looking a little wild about the eyes, and it took a lot to get Alex up here. 

Once they’re inside the rented bedspace, Amos pulls Daffydd aside and lets Alex roam around what little space they’ve got on his own.

“I get where you’re coming from here,” he says quietly. “But you’re registered, so we can only have so much of a problem to deal with. Just keep in mind you’re here for a job, and it’s halfway done. Just don’t look at Alex, all right?”

He sees Daffydd’s eyes trying to dart around without hitting on Alex, probably to where the hidden cameras are, but he’s a professional, he gets it. Amos nods. Alex ain't in the room to be looked at by him. Amos looks to his right and sees Alex staring. 

***

Alex is getting weirdly turned on? It must be like birdwatching on earth. As it is, watching Amos move is a fruitful past time for him on the _Roci_. Boy's got slim hips and powerful shoulders and he has to bend over for things a lot. It’s a pure distraction, and Alex refuses to put it past him that Amos don’t know what he’s doing.

So Alex leans up against a wall once they get in the room, and Amos hands Daffydd a condom and tells him to get on his knees.

(Meanwhile, Daffydd is thinking about demanding double pay because while this may not be the weirdest thing he’s ever done, it’s getting up there. He reminds himself du towsh bik even though he can’t look up, but the powang clearly wants a show.)

Amos starts to run his hands through Daffydd’s black hair and tug on his curls. He moves his hips so Daffydd can get his jumpsuit off 

(Helpful, he's naked underneath)

Amos is feeling pretty pleased with himself; Daffydd’s got the right look, and Alex is getting hard over there. He’s got that intent look he gets when he’s thinking about flying. This is one of Amos’ few great ideas, he’s pretty sure. Feelings is one thing, but food is another. Alex should know he doesn’t need to provide both.

(Daffydd, meanwhile, is really trying to figure out why he didn't go into bartending like his sister downstairs. The money's almost as good. But hey, so far the guy's kept to his deal. He's not rough, or trying to gag him. He's moving his hips exactly as much as he needs to make it real obvious to the freak in the back of the room what he's getting done to him. Must be his bosmang. The guy he's blowing slowly pulls him off enough to flash his wet dick to the room before guiding him back down again. He appreciates the professionalism.)

Alex has seen Amos without his shirt before. The guy throws a heavy bag around sometimes and it's enough to make a man feel that spare tire once and awhile. But Amos is leaning, half-naked, against the wall of their small hotel room, with a guy between his legs, and now there's just so much of him to watch. He's space-belly pale, and his tattoos look homemade but his muscles bend and flex and the scoop of his waist is starting to shine with sweat. Alex's mouth dries  
He doesn't know what this is—well, he knows _what_ this is he ain't stupid—but he wants his hands on those flexing hips and tight brown nipples. The way Amos stares at a man can make them cry (he's seen it) but the way Amos is pinning him with those baby blues is making Alex hard in his suit. He leans away from his corner of the room and Amos frowns. His big rough fingers tighten in the hooker—Davy? Daffydd's hair.

Amos is pretty okay with this. Daffydd’s mouth is warm and he's got a good idea of what to do with his tongue. He likes the suction. Alex seems like he's relaxing into it, too. Amos was a bit worried when he wanted the meds, let's face it, sober isn't always better, but if Alex wants it that way, Amos can adapt. Amos narrows his eyes. Alex has a nice face, all flushed. Nice lips parting when he breathes. Good body, kinda soft, but that's all right. Alex is a soft kind of guy. He's looking at Daffydd now, where Amos is holding him at the neck.

Amos grunts, and Alex looks up at him. Amos pulls Daffydd off, let's Alex see the package. It's a bit cold in the room. Alex licks his lips and unzips his collar, and Amos put Daffydd back on his cock. He's flexing when Alex leans forward, showing off the arms Alex looks at when he's carrying something on board. Maybe they should move this to the bed, let Alex see the ass.

He pulls Daffydd off and asks if he's prepped. Alex comes off the wall like he's been pushed.

***

See, this is getting a little much now. Alex is. Alex is thinking this is a little bit much. He is all for porn, some of his best friends are porn videos! It's great, but this is starting to feel like he's being humored or some shit and Alex isn't having that. He walks over and Daffydd moves out of the way real fast. Amos is starting to form that little confused frown wrinkle in his forehead, like he's getting ready to have an emotion that ends with someone bleeding.

"What the hell is going on here?" Alex asks. Because he's never been afraid to get up in Amos' space even before they started ...this whatever, not really. A healthy respect for a man’s violence is different than fear.

"I'm gonna fuck him," Amos says and cocks his head. "You go back to your corner."

"I can see—what the fuck, Amos?" Alex runs both hands in his hair, but can't help looking Amos up and down, still naked and hard, with his jumpsuit down to his thighs. The way his chest moves when he breaths is mite distracting.

"It's fine if you jerk off to me," Amos says. "That's kind of the point."

"Kind of the—Amos, what in the hell are we doing here?" Alex feels all the buzz under his skin rising up to the surface, giving him the jitters. He hears Daffydd quietly backing further and further away to the bathroom in the corner, and he wants to kiss Amos. He wants to tear his own hair out, and kiss Amos, and then go down on that thick cock, the son of a bitch.

He turns in a circle and spreads his arms. "Amos, what are we doing?"

Amos crosses his arms and flexes, because he knows Alex likes that, damn him. "Did you want somebody else? I can go get them. You can tell me about it later, if you want."

People talk about sex all the time. They could do that. Alex looks like he's a big boy in those flight suits, he could probably pin somebody good with that. He takes the condom off the cock, and tosses it in the trash. He's a little cold and sweaty, but some people like sweaty on him. He wipes his hands down his chest and frames the package, resting his thumbs against the bottom of his suit.

Alex swallows. Oh, that's a sin right there. That son of a bitch is playing him.

"Let me get Daffydd back in here," Amos says. "It's gonna be good stuff,"

"Well, maybe I don't want good stuff with a damn hooker," Alex snaps. "You think of that, hotshot?"

Amos has not, in fact, thought of that. He cocks his head the other direction. "Is it the body? You want a woman?"

"No, I don't want a damn woman, I don't want a damn man!" He turns to Daffydd. "No offense."

Daffydd raises his hands. "None taken, bosmang."

Amos points at him. "Hey, what did I say about looking at him?"

Alex frowns. "What did you say about looking at me?"

"I said not to!"

"Sorry! Sorry, I'm not looking! I'm—I'm just going to leave."

"You stay right there!" Amos says. "I ain't fucked you yet."

Daffydd _knew_ today was a bad omen. He knew it. "Okay! Okay, I'm staying, I'm just...I'm going to be in the bathroom, sa sa ke?"

Amos points at him again. "You better."

Daffydd goes into the bathroom. He's pushing the panic button the second one of those idiots pulls his gun.

"What the _fuck_, Amos?" Alex asks. "What the fuck is going on?"

"You just had to take those sobriety meds, didn't you?" Amos says and crosses his arms again.  
His jumpsuit slips to his knees, but Alex feels like someone's dumped him in a blast freezer. His dick's more than halfway to limp. He shakes his head.

"You think I want to fuck with someone half out of their heads?"

"That hooker's sober, I told him to stop drinking after one." Amos frowns. "Is that it? Did you want to fuck him? Kinda vain of you, ain't that, brother?"

Alex's eyes are going to pop out of their sockets and explode. 

"You want me to get somebody else I will," Amos says. "You gotta speak about what you want, though, I'm not a mind reader."

Alex wonders if those sobriety meds even actually worked at all, because he feels like maybe he's drunk. Or high. Maybe he's dreaming this right now.

Amos rubs his hand over his head. "Man, I was gonna treat and everything, but if you want another one, I think you need to help me out a little here."

Alex steps forward and then back, and spreads his hands in the air. "You are some piece of work, you know that? You wanna sit me in a corner and fuck some guy who looks like me when I'm sitting right here?"

"Well, yeah," Amos says.

"Even though I am standing," --Alex points at the ground-- "Right here."

"Kind of the point, brother," Amos says, and raises his eyebrows. "Or you could it and I could wait..." Amos frowns. "No, I need to be here. But I could wait in the bathroom if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Amos, _Jesus Christ_."

"Fucking what, Alex?" Amos yells back and oh there he is, there's that angry fucking ape Alex once saw toss a marine against a wall. There's the hunch in his shoulders and the glint in his eyes, but Amos' arms are still folded against his chest and his chin is down. Alex puts his weight into the balls of his feet in case he needs to dodge. Amos hasn't laid hands on him in a long while, but Alex isn't dumb. He doesn't think he'll need to, though. Because Amos' eyes are starting to squint and his mouth is crumpling at the edges, and Alex feels so old his bones could disintegrate right there.

"So it's not sex, it's just sex with me?" he asks. "What, I'm not good enough to look at?"

Amos is younger than him, sculpted like a damn workers' union poster. Amos has that wide mouth that sometimes looks like he's working on a smile just to try something new. Amos has those pretty eyes like the _Roci’s_ engine fire.

Amos shakes his head. "I like looking at you fine," he says.

Alex snorts. "Lucky fucking me," he says. "You like looking at me fine."

"Yeah, I like what I fucking see, okay?" Amos frowns harder but he holds himself tighter. It's getting fucking cold in the room.

"Then why the fuck won't you let me fucking—Why won't you let me fucking touch you, baby?" Alex asks. "I'd make it so good for you."

He wants to come closer, wants to pull Amos against himself and feel that cock against his belly. He wants Amos in his arms and sleeping in his bed, but Amos pulls back against the wall with a sharp inhale through his nose, and Alex leans his head back and groans. Amos isn't a man to be crowded.

Amos face twitches like he's shotgunned rotgut again. He sniffs and coughs. "Come on, man, don't think like that," he says.

Alex sticks his chin out. He feels his sagging, old gut start to sink. "Like, what?" he asks.

"Fucking people you like..." Amos bites his lower lip, and shakes his head. "It's not good for you, Alex. It don't work out the way you want."

Alex swallows. "What do you mean?"

He thinks back to those ladies two months ago that Amos pushed his way, that man with the soft hands and the thin mouth on Alex's birthday last year. Amos in the corner booth with a smile on his face and a beer in his hand, one pretty brown-eyed face after another leaning on his arm, hands beneath Amos' waist.

"Brother, I have seen you with more strange on more levels of this station than there is green on Mars, and you want to tell me not to give it up for someone I actually want to have around?"

Amos smiles. "You know I just like to see they're doing okay," he says. "It's just doing the rounds. You don't gotta give it away yourself; I'm not going anywhere."

Alex stops breathing for a moment. He presses both hands to his mouth; he wants to scream.

"I mean, I'm not picky,” Amos continues. “Holden wants a go around, I'd let him. Naomi's got her green light for years. You don't need to be so fussy all the time now."

"But not me," Alex says, dropping his hands from his mouth. His stomach hurts, some kind of cramp deep in his gut.

Amos clears his throat, and shrugs one shoulder. His eyes dart back and forth, skittering away from Alex's face.

"Ain't I special, then," Alex says. He wants to spit the sourness out of his mouth. Maybe he'll just go back to the bar and drown it.

Amos nods. "Yeah," he says, and looks up. "Your hard on's gone. You want me to get Daffydd in here, get that back for you?"

Alex takes a deep breath and blows it hard out of his mouth. He puts his hands on his hips. Amos is just watching him, with his jumpsuit at his ankles now, his dick swinging free. He's hairless everywhere but his head. His eyes are so steady on Alex's face. Alex feels like he's got a lungful of air before drowning.

"Am I special, Amos?" he asks quietly, and feels like he might have some wetness in his eyes, some little unsanctioned water leak.

"Yeah, I think so," Amos says the way he says everything, like it's just words from a spool: Alex is special, Amos would fuck Holden.

"You're...special to me, too," Alex says, and breathes through the way Amos' face tries to hide his smile as soon as it forms.

He feels like he should use different words, make some kinda poem outta what he says, instead of the language he's got, but Amos has always liked people to be clear instead. 

"I like to...fuck some of the people I think are special," Alex says.

Amos nods too quickly. "Yeah, and I understand that, but you don't gotta."

Alex shakes his head just a little and stares into Amos' eyes. "No… I don't," he says.

"I can find people for that," Amos says.

"Do you..." Alex licks his lips. He wants to move closer, but doesn't. "Do you like doing that?"

Amos raises his eyebrows. "I guess," he says. "You got funny taste sometimes."

Alex nods a little more deeply. "Yeah," he snorts and scrubs his head. "Think you're right there, brother."

Amos shrugs and wavers back and forth on his feet. He bobs his head. "So..."

"Let me touch you," Alex blurts out and freezes immediately, eyes wide.

Amos' back is against the wall, arms out spread and fists clenched. His breath comes out fast.

"Not like that! Not like that!" Alex yells. He glances at the bathroom, that Davy must have collapsed from boredom by now. He takes one step forward. "Let me explain, hoss," he says, lowering his voice.

Amos works his jaw a little, but he nods.

"I just want to touch you," Alex says. He walks forward, gets in Amos’ reach, but not too close. "Wrassle a bit sometime, nothing we ain't done before. I want to hold your hand, can I do that?"

Amos huffs, grins a little but it breaks mid-way. "Kinda soft, ain't you?"

Alex nods and steps closer. "Just for you, though, how 'bout that?" he asks. "How about you let me pull your jumpsuit up?"

He pauses, barely breathing and feeling the blood start to pump louder in his ears, until Amos nods, just a little jerk of his chin.

Alex moves slow, keeps his hands where Amos can see them, and gets on his knees. Amos makes a noise and Alex looks up. Amos is breathing through his mouth, lips wet where he's licked them. His chest's pumping with air

Alex gets his hands on Amos' suit, and pulls it up those strong hairless legs. He wants to run his hands up the backs of Amos' calves, and feel the muscles shake. He keeps his knuckles from touching anything as he rises to one knee, pulling the fabric up to Amos' hips. Amos' skin has turned red all the way down to his belly. His cock is twitching against his thigh. 

Alex swallows. He wants to put his mouth on that spot where Amos' muscle meets his pelvic bones, lick down to his balls and behind them, get Amos spread and calling out for him. He can make it so good, he can take Amos out of his head and put him back safe as lamb, he'd hold on so tight.

Alex swallows again. "Why no hair?" he asks instead.

He feels Amos shrug and looks up. He's been staring at the man's cock, damn it.

"I don't like the fuss," Amos says.

All that depilatory cream sounds like more fuss to Alex, but it's Amos' choice. He takes a few calming breathes. It's Amos' choice.

"Can I tuck you in there?" he asks, voice wavering just a bit, because God _damn_ but this man—his man is built-up right.

"No," Amos says. "Thank you." His big hand, red knuckles and cut off nails, comes down in front of Alex's face. He curves his palm along his own cock and Alex doesn't mean to moan, but it's out before he knows it. He puts his forehead against the back of Amos' hand, and Amos stops moving. Alex feels Amos' hand shiver, he feels it rub, just a little. 

"Don't cut off your hair like mine, okay?" Amos says above him. "I like it."

Alex takes a breath. He smells the oil in Amos' jumpsuit no laundry can scrub out, the soap showing they tried, the warm bit of musk that comes off a body's heat. He parts his lips, feels them brush against Amos' fingers, feels those fighter's knuckles start to curl, and lifts his head away.

He tilts his face up to Amos, and waits, without looking, while Amos tucks his cock and balls out of the way. He waits while Amos’ arm lifts and returns to his side, and stands, pulling that jumpsuit up higher, under Amos' eyes. 

"You want to put your arms in for me?" he whispers, so close he can see the little almost gone scars flecked like debris on Amos' cheek. He holds the jumpsuit open, arms around Amos' shoulders while Amos works his own arms through the sleeves, and then draws the two panels of the jumpsuit across Amos' chest. Amos is staring at him, eyes wide, his mouth parted. His head is cocked to the side, and his lips are wet. Alex can see the red of his tongue; he's panting. Amos is taking all the air out of the room, and Alex wants to seal their mouths together, suck back in what Amos has taken. His licks his own mouth, and Amos smiles just for a flicker of an inhalation. 

Alex reaches between them, does up the zip in one too-loud pull all the way up to Amos' collarbones.

"Maybe we try something another night," he says. He wants out of that room, back to the _Roci_, where things make sense. He wants to fucking rub one out to the smell of Amos on his hands, but he doesn't want to be alone.

"You're sure about this?" Amos asks. "There's that Heike downstairs, might like some repeat business."

Alex shakes his head. "Nah, hoss, “he says. "Let's get the gentleman out of the bathroom, pay him for his time, and go. I was..."

He narrows his eyes. He wants to test a theory. "Read this book coming back from the run yesterday, had a dinner scene in it with a recipe for Nihari I thought sounded familiar. Wanted to try and see if Grandpa Kamal told no lies. You wanna come?"

Amos’ eyes narrow. “What’s Nihari?”

The man’s getting awfully particular with Alex’s cooking. Alex shrugs. “Meat stew,” he says. “Now, I know we got no real meat on our hands, but if I remember correctly, this is no stew like you’ve ever tasted. Real involved too. Takes all night to do it right.”

“All night?” Amos grunts. “Awful lot of work.”

“Nah,” Alex says. “I got no other plans. Might even make some of that bread you like.”

Amos crosses his arms, smiles big enough to stay now. "Fuck man, you know that Martian food ain't shit." 

"Oh, is that so?" Alex asks and crosses his own arms.

"Damn straight," Amos says, already turning to the bathroom. "And I oughta know."

"Oh, you're the judge now are you?" Alex calls after him.

"Fuck yeah, I am." Amos says and opens the door. Something clatters inside the bathroom. Amos turns around. "We need to pick up ingredients?"

"Yeah," Alex says and clears his throat. "Just a few."

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in a complete state of agitation while several strange construction workers argued outside my door and, eventually, went away. Seriously, I texted 10 pages to thefourthvine and the result looked something like this. Thus, it's not my usual fic and the POVs are so entangled it would take more work to ease them free than it would to just post and be damned. So, if you like this, thank you, and if you find it hopelessly confusing, I apologize. In my defense, I had no beta and the construction workers were VERY loud


End file.
